Full of surprises
by Remus-Chocolade
Summary: Being a father is never easy, and sometimes Bill wasn't sure if his second daughter was trying to make it easier or harder for him. Since the day she was born she had surprised him, but the biggest surprise came after her first year at Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to J. K. Rowling, not me.**

Dominique had always been full of surprises to her parents, from the day she was born. Fleur had barely got a single warning before her water broke, and it was pure luck it was a Saturday and Bill had been home to escort her to the hospital, moaning and barely able to stand due to the heavy contractions. No more than four hours later she found herself with a small bundle in her arms, nursing her second daughter.

A quick glimpse at the baby gave them another small shock; the thick down on the small pink head was dark as the night, far from the golden blond her sister had had as an infant. Shrugging slightly, Bill had later joked the genes from her maternal grandfather must have put up a real fight, and won over both the Veela's blonde and the Weasley-red.

Dominique grew fast and found her place in the family, tagging along when her mother went out to do some gardening or when her father concluded he barely could fit his car into the garage and needed to throw away at least some of the rubbish there. The little girl also discovered quickly how these favours more often than not led to ice-cream or biscuits afterward.

Of course Dominique wasn't just an angel. If her sister Victoire decided she couldn't play with the 'big kids', there was always the possibility of the younger throwing a tantrum loud enough to attract some adults, who would then tell Victoire to let her sister in on the fun. If this didn't help particular, a nudge from Teddy Lupin and quick murmur of how it wasn't that big of a deal if Dominique joined them usually was enough to bend Victoire's will for the moment. Both Bill and Fleur saw this, but took it with a small smile, they had both been part of sibling rivalry once themselves.

When the time drew nearer for Dominique to start Hogwarts and she felt herself too mature for the company of her younger cousins and the older were already off to school, Bill half-regretted his decision of working part-time at home. Every opportunity the dark-haired girl had, she seized to question him about life, from his school days to his work in Egypt and if he regretted moving back to Britain.

Sitting on the chair opposite his desk in the study, she would keep a matter-of-fact tone as she aired her thoughts for him and expected full answers, growing annoyed if he just murmured in response as he tried to fill out the paperwork for splitting the content in one vault into two as the customer requested. Getting tired with his mental absence from their discussion, she soon gave up coming into his study.

That didn't mean she stopped talking to him. After dinner, when his mind was relaxed enough to take in what she had mused over in the day, he found himself more than once surprised by her brains, and more often agreeing with her than not. Though, sometimes it became too much.

"Daddy's tired," he found himself almost moaning one afternoon, laying spread out on the couch, his blue eyes squinting into hers. It had been a tough day on the work, as everyone seemed to blame him for every last thing, at the same time expecting him to fix them.

"Oh," Dominique answered, wrinkling her freckled nose a bit. "Well, then I'll go help Mum with the dishes." But she didn't go at once, she made sure to tuck a blanket around him first. Sighing as his body relaxed properly, Bill smiled slightly as she heard a light discussion of why they had adopted some Muggle things, like a car and a television, into their altogether magical family start up in the kitchen.

Still, Dominique's bag of hidden tricks was far from empty. Bordering the Hogwarts Express for the first time with a brave smile, she still half-hung out the window as the train began to move, waving to her parents and little brother. Waving back, Bill reminded himself his little girl was in good hands, if she didn't annoy the living daylight out of the teachers with her already full stock of knowledge.

Coming in from a check on his car that evening and being met with a friendly accusation of loving 'that metal-wreck' more than his wife and a request to wash the streak of oil from his cheek, he spotted the letter laying on the table.

"She's gotten in trouble already?" he asked with a lopsided grin, sitting down in the couch beside Fleur and reaching for the crumpled piece of paper, it seemed the owl had been a bit difficult to persuade.

It wasn't long, but held more than enough information; _Mum & Dad, the food is amazing, so is the castle! I'm in Slytherin, they're okay people. Love, Dom._

After staring on the short letter for a while, Fleur uttered a small "Oh." Bill swallowed hard, wrinkled his brows, and in the end gave a short nod before placing the letter down on the table carefully.

"I'm not sure if I'm surprised at that –" His finger hovered over the word _Slytherin_ for a moment "– or if I'm surprised that I am surprised." To be honest with himself, he had seen the tendency of his daughter to get it her way, either by persuasion or by wit. Still, a part of him had stubbornly insisted Weasleys always end up in Gryffindor, and if not, at least her brains would land Dominique in Rawenclaw. "And now I feel like a fool," he concluded before heading for the bathroom to clean up.

As always when it came to their children's behaviour, the shock didn't last long. By the next morning they were both composed enough to write to both their daughters, just for good measurement, wishing them luck and telling them they were already missed. The rest of the day was easily spent outside with Louis, a couple of brooms and a picnic basket, driving any concerns from their minds for a while.

The next letter from Dominique told of her first detention, in the middle of November. After a bit of back and forth it turned out to involve some products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and a not-completely-foolproof plan to avoid getting caught. Bill just rolled his eyes and chuckled when reading it.

As both Dominique and Victoire decided to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, their parents were close to smothering them with hugs when they at last came home for the summer. Marvelling over how much both of them had grown and joking of how they soon had to start chasing away Dominique's admirers, they headed for the car, not knowing the next surprise would be bigger than any of the previous.

"Dad?" They had sat in silence for a while on the porch, each just staring out on the waves and slowly sipping their soda as the sun sunk lower in the sky. Having been home for a couple of days, Dominique had slid right into her place as the middle child again.

"Yeah?" Bill stretched his long legs in front of himself, sinking deeper into the soft cushion of the garden chair, looking over at his daughter.

"I've been thinking," she began quietly, gazing out on the sea, the light breeze ruffling her long, black hair, setting sparks in it that betrayed her Veela ancestry.

"Of what?" he asked, sensing this wasn't how she had thought it funny how her wand had the same wood as his and the same core as Fleur's.

"Well..." She sat up straighter and turned to him, looking him square in the eye. He knew that expression, his wife used it often enough in presence of his mother; She would not buckle an inch no matter what happened. "Do you hate me?"

"What?" he asked mildly, taken aback. "Why would I hate you?" He reached out to take her hand, but she wouldn't let him.

"Because I'm in Slytherin." Her tone was matter-of-factly, but he detected a small quiver in her voice, a small fear that he _did_ hate her for it.

"I don't hate you at all," he answered, still mildly, and gave her a tender smile.

"That's denying yourself," she burst out with at once. "It's a well-known fact that Slytherins and Gryffindors hate each other, and you are a Gryffindor, have always been! Plus, you're a Weasley, you're sneered at by many of the pure-blood Slytherin families, like Nott and Malfoy and Parkinson!" The blood had risen in her fair cheeks, her eyes widening as she challenged him.

"Dom," he sighed, folding his hands in his lap. "You are just as much a Weasley as I am –" he began, but was cut off short.

"No, I'm only half as much Weasley as you are, I'm fifty percent Delacour too," she insisted, her voice calmer again.

"Okay, fair's fair," he muttered while draining his glass to win a moment to think. "That I am a Gryffindor, well, I was in my school days, and I admit to have thrown myself a bit into the rivalry with Slytherin. But that's a long time ago and it doesn't matter any more, all is forgot and forgiven," he continued, holding her eyes. "That the Slytherins and Gryffindors hate each other, that's mostly an act... Though sometimes it's taken too far."

"It's an act?" she said dubiously, getting up to walk back and forth in front of him, hands on her back. Bill hid his smile in his hand, pacing like that was a pretty Weasley thing to do, even if she didn't see it herself. "Then who, if I might ask, is the houses named after?" She glanced up at him, obviously overflowing with arguments to support her case.

"Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin," he answered, a nasty feeling he was about to be outsmarted by a twelve-year-old twisting through his stomach.

"Who ended their friendship over what?" This time she didn't give him time to answer. "Slytherin left, in the end, because Gryffindor, and the others too, but mostly Gryffindor, insisted they take in Muggle-borns to Hogwarts! In those times!" She was almost shrieking and Bill got up to embrace her, feeling her struggle for a moment before she relaxed against him, breathing slowly and gathering her thoughts.

"And do you see any reason to hold that grudge against the inhabitants of the house today, for that?" he murmured down in her hair, pulling her gently over to sit on his lap.

"You don't see, do you?" she asked, calmed again. He shook his head, smiling slightly, and she heaved a sigh. "About a thousand years ago, magic was feared and witches and wizards hunted. By everyone. Of course Slytherin was afraid that if they took in Muggle-borns, it would be too easy for a sibling to boast to some ignorant prats, telling them to fear them and that person, because of their magic."

"And? They had to know the danger of revealing what their family member was?" Bill questioned lightly, stroking her back absentmindedly.

"Yes, but that was power, too, you know," Dominique lectured, trying to ignore the fingers tickling up her spine, it ruined the seriousness of their conversation. "Fear is power, to a certain degree. Still, the Muggle-born in question would be sentenced to death by burning, unless he revealed a whole load of other wizards and witches. Given that option, most gave in, they were just kids..." Her eyes grew misty as she let them wander slowly over the waves. "Slytherin was right in how it was a risk, a risk Gryffindor, Rawenclaw and Hufflepuff was willing to take. If it had gone real bad, someone could have revealed the existence of Hogwarts, and it's founders, erasing everything they had worked so hard for." Leaning her back against his chest, she let out a heavy breath.

"But nobody did find them out," her father whispered in her ear. "The students and their family stayed loyal, and still do. Right?"

"Yeah, but now magic isn't feared like it used to be," she said quietly. "Salasar had every right to decline taking in Muggle-borns, if not into the school, at least into his own house."

"Dominique?" Bill said mildly and turned her around to face him, hiding his concern for his daughter's view . "Who told you all this?"

"Nobody," she answered truthfully, her eyes slowly gliding over his scarred face.

"Did you read it somewhere?" he tried, but she shook her head.

"Dad, I don't think like this because I've been in the company of Slytherins all year, I think like this because I know the history," she said slowly, her gaze hardening as to make him argue.

"Okay," he said after a moment, holding his hands on her shoulders, feeling his thumb brush against the fragile skin of her throat. "But Dominique –?"

"Yes?"

"You asked if I hated you for being in Slytherin. I take it you don't hate me for having been in Gryffindor." There was a note of question in his tone and she suppressed a smile, the corner of her eyes wrinkling anyway.

"I could never hate you," she said, laying her arms about his neck and accepting his tight embrace, both giving as much as possible to make up for the lost months, she was still Daddy's little girl, after all. "Beside, hate is a waste of time and energy," she muttered, making them both chuckle.

**AN: As you might imagine, I came to think of the part about Slytherin while rereading CoS, and how he really wasn't that much of a bad guy. I've also seen Dominque as being a bit different from the rest of her family for a long time, and the plot bunnies jumped on the idea like starved piranhas to a bloody steak. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Can I just say I love Bill in the role of father, trying to balance between friend, protector and authority? He fits perfectly, in my opinion!**

Even if she had assured him no one had pressured her into her new way of thinking, Bill kept a close eye on Dominique the following days, analysing their conversation in his free time and wondering if it really did matter.

Yes, it mattered, if not to her or anyone else, it mattered to him. Being raised by Arthur Weasley, Bill did have a soft spot for Muggles and their ability to look past what was right in front of them, especially concerning magic. He also saw Muggle-borns as a tricky riddle, concerning how they could come to be magical when no one in their family seemed to possess the trait.

That his own daughter should not only be in Slytherin, but have so many thoughts lining up with the stereotype of the house hurt his pride a little. That didn't mean he loved her any less for it, he was just concerned about what path it may lead her on later in life. Having been around for both Wizard Wars, although he had been just a child the first time, he knew the extremes some people would go to in their hate for Muggle-borns. And the extremes needed to protect; he saw it in the mirror each day.

Coming at last to a conclusion, he invited her for a walk along the beach. She probably knew what he had in mind, but came willingly. It was a quiet, but cloudy day and they walked in silence for a while before he thought they were both in a relaxed state of mind.

"Dom, what we talked about a couple of days ago," he opened with, seeing her hunch her shoulders a bit beside him. "I'm not angry at you, if that's what you think."

"I know you're not," she answered, but knowing he wasn't exactly happy about what she had told him.

"But I have some questions," he admitted, and she gave a sharp nod, eyes on the sand before them. "How much of Slytherin's ideas do you... Agree with?" he settled on, in lack of a better word.

"Agree with?" she repeated, then fell silent for a moment, glancing up at him. "Do you mean, if I think there shouldn't be any Muggle-borns at Hogwarts?" He was slightly uncomfortable and dug his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.

"Do you?" he asked quietly, staring helplessly at her for the answer that could ruin their relationship.

"No," she answered, shaking her head and tucking her hair behind her ear. "Not now. They can't help it, after all." He took a deep breath, frowning slightly at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked in the end, realising they had stopped walking and now stood facing each other. She looked so small in the too-big jacket and her thick hair dancing around her face, it made him want to pick her up and cradle her against his chest, at the same time as he was faced with how much she had grown in under a year.

"They can't help their born into a Muggle family, just like we can't help we're born into a magical one. They can't help how Muggles looked at magic five hundred years ago, and we can't help how the Dark Lord looked at Muggles," she concluded, then began walking again. His long strides quickly caught up with her again, but he hadn't missed her attempt at getting away. Relieved of what she had just told him, he ignored it.

"You're right," he said, moving closer and putting an arm around her shoulders. "And that's good to hear."

"I told you last time, hate is a waste of time and energy," she retorted, breathing in the fresh sea air in gulps.

"So is war," he mused quietly.

"If you think I'll start killing off Muggles, I'm afraid you've lost your marbles," she said dryly and felt him hug her closer.

"No, I'm not," he told her as they kept strolling slowly away from the house, the wind tugging at their hair and sending small sprays of salty needles over their cheeks. "But it's only human to make mistakes."

"Yeah, but I'm... You've lost the whole point, haven't you?" She stopped, turning towards his slightly puzzled expression.

"Have I?" he asked mildly, even if his daughter had a mind exceeding her years, she could still be manipulated in the hands of the right – or wrong – person.

"Yes, you have!" She couldn't keep herself from yelling and it was a near thing she stormed away, but she controlled the urge, she needed to be face to face with her father to tell him. "I'm not anti-Muggle, I'm not anti-Muggle-born, I'm simply saying that in their situation, like society was then, Salazar Slytherin was at least as much right as any of the other Founders!" Stomping her foot, she turned away from him, leaving him to stare blankly after her.

"Maybe I did lose the point," Bill muttered to himself before trotting after her, cursing himself for having such a smart daughter and not being smart enough himself to dampen his ego. Just because he was older, and her father too, did not mean he was right, and he should have learned this a long time ago.

"Go away," she said when hearing his footsteps behind her again, her voice shrill on the wind.

"No." He was close enough to reach out and stop her with a hand on her shoulder, holding her still as he faced her. She kept her eyes down, refusing to look at him. "Because you're right and I didn't see it before. As society was then, Slytherin wasn't wrong in his choice, maybe, he was just afraid," he told her softly. She picked up his slight hesitation, but looked him in the face.

"And no wonder," she said quietly, then feebly tried to tug out of the grip he still had on her shoulder, knowing it was of little use.

"You told me other things, too," he continued with, loosening his hold. "You said we're sneered at by the pure-bloods –"

"No, I said _you_ are sneered at," she objected hotly.

"Fine," he agreed, fighting to keep his calm. "Have you... I mean, have anyone given you any trouble about being my daughter?" He felt a small twist in his gut of anger and hurt pride if anyone should have done such a thing, but didn't let it show on his face.

"No," she answered shortly, looking down at her shoes again. "Not directly, at least," she admitted in a murmur.

"Meaning?" He sat down on the patch of grass next to them and she followed his example, hugging her knees as she stared out on the rolling waves.

"Well, they don't say anything, but at once they hear I'm a Weasley, they just... Look weirdly at me, as if I'm trying to pull some kind of stupid prank," she said. "Since I don't have the red hair they don't shun me at sight, but, well..." Her voice died out and she cast a look over at her father, seeing a small line between his smooth eyebrows.

"Dom," he said softly, reaching out a hand to her, "are you lonely at Hogwarts?"

"No," she said quietly, her eyes stinging as the tears build up. "No, I have some study buddies, but –" Her voice broke and she didn't object to being pulled close to his side and let the tears run, feeling his cheek against her head as he murmured nonsense down in her hair. "Sometimes I wonder if they just hang out with me because of my grades," she whispered, feeling his hold around her tighten.

"No," he whispered back. "No, baby, they hang out with you for _you_, not anything else." But deep down he knew his daughter wasn't an easy person to get close to and accept her with all the surprises she held. He did because he was her father, it was the law of nature, but from an outside perspective he saw how kids her age could find her strange. She was no doubt more mature than her classmates, maybe more manipulating towards strangers, but definitively not evil, she had a big heart and lots of empathy towards her close relations.

"Why can't I just be like everyone else?" she burst out suddenly and pushed herself upright to look at him. She had her mother's eyes and Bill couldn't keep himself from wiping away some of the tears with his thumb. "Why can't my biggest concerns be finishing the Charms essay before it's due and worrying if I'll get a seat next to my crush at lunch? Why can't I be happily entertained by the gossip about the sixth years, which is no doubt much more colourful by the time it's passed down to us than the real story?" She heard him sigh as she was pulled into a hug again, feeling the prickling of his slightly stubbled cheek against her neck.

"I don't know," he admitted at last as he released her again. "But you wanna hear a secret?" She nodded and he beckoned for her to lean in so he could whisper in her ear.

"We're the only ones here," she pointed out dryly and crossed her arms over her chest. He smiled slightly and beckoned her again, at which point she gave in with a loud sigh and leaned closer.

"Everyone's insecure," he whispered softly, stroking his hand over the back of her head as he let her pull back slowly. She didn't reply, but her downcast eyes betraying how much went through her mind at the moment.

"Even you?" she asked after a minute.

"Even me," he admitted with a chuckle. "Merlin, I'm not even going to tell you how many stupid things I did when I was twelve because of that! Later too, for that matter," he added, seeing her eyes light up again.

"Fine, then I'll just ask Uncle Charlie, he should know," she said, sounding more than a bit devious. He couldn't help but laugh, at the same time praying his brother had some filter as to what was appropriate to let his daughter know.

"But Dom..." He cast an uneasy glance at her before seeming to be absorbed in looking at his own hand. She snorted impatiently and he raised his eyes to meet hers again. "What concerns do you have, as essays and crushes and gossip don't seem to be any of them?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "It's just, all the others are just absorbed about such petty things –"

"Essays are 'petty things'?" he blurted, not really meaning to cut her off.

"No, but you know I don't have any problems with them," she said, sounding slightly annoyed. "And if Peter and Susan were caught snogging in a corridor by Filch, guess what, I don't care!"

"Peter and Susan who?" he asked, ducking fast as Dominique made an attempt at swatting him for his mock-interested tone. "Sorry," he said as she turned back to stare at the water.

"I just feel like a freak, okay?" Her voice was even more aggravated now.

"Oh, you're not a freak," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders again. "You're a twelve year old, they come in more styles than Bertie Bott's and are meant to go on each other's nerves."

"Thanks, Dad," she replied coldly, not intending to hurt him, but did it anyway.

"Dominique," he said slowly, "I've known you since before you were born and it isn't like you to be this moody. What's going on?"

"Dunno, nothing, maybe my time of the month coming up," she muttered, hugging her knees again.

"What?" he said dumbfounded. "You mean – you've got your period?" He couldn't help but stare at the young woman he realised his daughter had become.

"Yes, yes I have!" she exploded. "And I'm not having any conversations about it with you, I had one with Mum last summer, and with Vicky and Madam Pomfrey when it happened, that was awkward enough."

"Okay," he agreed, but wasn't able to keep himself from asking, "it don't hurt awfully much, I hope? I just know Ginny was bothered with some heavy cramps –"

"Dad!" She began hitting him with her loose fists, causing him to incline backwards to try to avoid them, but they were both grinning and she didn't object when he put his arms around her, rocking slightly from side to side where they were laying, laughing as they had a thousand times before in a tight embrace.

**AN: So, that's that for now, unless I get an urge to throw Dominique into more trouble. A review might spark my imagination...**


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